The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(86)

He ignored me, taking my hand and pulling me off the bed, too. He stood in front of me, hands on my shoulders, face serious.

“Now, I want to do this right. Please, please, keep in mind that you’ve already agreed to this, and don’t ruin it for me.”

“Oh, no,” I gasped as he slid down onto one knee.

“Be nice,” he muttered.

I took a deep breath.

“Isabella Swan?” He looked up at me through his impossibly long lashes, his golden eyes soft but, somehow, still scorching. “I promise to love you forever — every single day of forever. Will you marry me?”

There were many things I wanted to say, some of them not nice at all, and others more disgustingly gooey and romantic than he probably dreamed I was capable of. Rather than embarrass myself with either, I whispered, “Yes.”

“Thank you,” he said simply. He took my left hand and kissed each of my fingertips before he kissed the ring that was now mine.





21. TRAILS


I HATED TO WASTE ANY PART OF THE NIGHT IN SLEEP, but that was inevitable. The sun was bright outside the window-wall when I woke, with small clouds scuttling too quickly across the sky. The wind rocked the treetops till the whole forest looked as if it was going to shake apart.

He left me alone to get dressed, and I appreciated the chance to think. Somehow, my plan for last night had gone horribly awry, and I needed come to grips with the consequences. Though I’d given back the hand-me-down ring as soon as I could do it without hurting his feelings, my left hand felt heavier, like it was still in place, just invisible.

This shouldn’t bother me, I reasoned. It was no big thing — a road trip to Vegas. I would go one better than old jeans — I would wear old sweats. The ceremony certainly couldn’t take very long; no more than fifteen minutes at the most, right? So I could handle that.

And then, when it was over, he’d have to fulfill his side of the bargain. I would concentrate on that, and forget the rest.

He said I didn’t have to tell anyone, and I was planning to hold him to that. Of course, it was very stupid of me not to think of Alice.

The Cullens got home around noon. There was a new, businesslike feel to the atmosphere around them, and it pulled me back into the enormity of what was coming.

Alice seemed to be in an unusually bad mood. I chalked it up to her frustration with feeling normal, because her first words to Edward were a complaint about working with the wolves.

“I think” — she made a face as she used the uncertain word — “that you’re going to want to pack for cold weather, Edward. I can’t see where you are exactly, because you’re taking off with that dog this afternoon. But the storm that’s coming seems particularly bad in that general area.”

Edward nodded.

“It’s going to snow on the mountains,” she warned him.

“Ew, snow,” I muttered to myself. It was June, for crying out loud.

“Wear a jacket,” Alice told me. Her voice was unfriendly, and that surprised me. I tried to read her face, but she turned away.

I looked at Edward, and he was smiling; whatever was bugging Alice amused him.

Edward had more than enough camping gear to choose from — props in the human charade; the Cullens were good customers at the Newton’s store. He grabbed a down sleeping bag, a small tent, and several packets of dehydrated food — grinning when I made a face at them — and stuffed them all in a backpack.

Alice wandered into the garage while we were there, watching Edward’s preparations without a word. He ignored her.

When he was done packing, Edward handed me his phone. “Why don’t you call Jacob and tell him we’ll be ready for him in an hour or so. He knows where to meet us.”

Jacob wasn’t home, but Billy promised to call around until he could find an available werewolf to pass the news to.

“Don’t you worry about Charlie, Bella,” Billy said. “I’ve got my part of this under control.”

“Yeah, I know Charlie’ll be fine.” I didn’t feel so confident about his son’s safety, but I didn’t add that.

“I wish I could be with the rest of them tomorrow.” Billy chuckled regretfully. “Being an old man is a hardship, Bella.”

The urge to fight must be a defining characteristic of the Y chromosome. They were all the same.

“Have fun with Charlie.”

“Good luck, Bella,” he answered. “And . . . pass that along to the, er, Cullens for me.”

“I will,” I promised, surprised by the gesture.

As I gave the phone back to Edward, I saw that he and Alice were having some kind of silent discussion. She was staring at him, pleading in her eyes. He was frowning back, unhappy with whatever she wanted.